The New Footman's Hero: Part 1 of Thomas and Andy: A DA Love Story
by dustnik
Summary: Set in 1925. Andy's growing relationship with Thomas. Canon divergence after Season 5. AU in which Andy is gay.
1. Chapter 1

Andy Parker had been at Downton Abbey for six months now. There was something sweet and innocent about him that made everyone want to protect him, and no one felt that more than Thomas Barrow. The underbutler had promptly taken him under his wing, showing him what he needed to know and displaying an almost paternal interest in the lad. The boy was good for Thomas too. Ever since Jimmy left the previous year, he had been at loose ends with no one to really talk to and no outlet for his often misguided schemes. He now focused all that energy on helping young Andy. The other servants were quick to encourage the friendship as it seemed to bring out Barrow's better angel.

For his part, Andy idolized Thomas, ever since the older man recouped his gambling losses after his misadventures with Miss Denker. He had tried several times to repay the debt, but his money was always refused. The footman often joined Barrow in the courtyard during his frequent smoke breaks. He loved to listen as Thomas talked about the things that interested him or what he had recently read. It was sometimes a struggle to keep up as the senior servant's keen mind darted from subject to subject. Andy thought he was simply brilliant.

On one such occasion, he gushed, "You know everything, Mr. Barrow." Thomas flashed him an ironic smile. "No, I mean it," Andy insisted. "You've seen and done so much. You started out as a footman like me, and now you're an underbutler. I wish I could be like you."

Thomas' smile faded. "You wouldn't want to be like me."

"But I would. I really would."

Thomas ground out his cigarette and returned inside.

The next morning at breakfast, he received a letter in the early post. Andy happened to glance down the table and observed the look of surprise on Thomas' face when he saw the return address. He continued to watch as the underbutler read the note, his expression a combination of shock and pain. Thomas immediately left the table, saying nothing, and hurried out the back door. Andy quickly wolfed down his breakfast and followed. At first, there was no sign of the other man. Then he spotted him off at a distance huddled by a tree. As Andy approached, he could see Thomas' body convulsing in sobs. The footman knew that he would hate to be seen like that and hesitated. "Mr. Barrow?"

Thomas stood up quickly, still with his back to the boy. "Leave me alone now, Andy."

Andy heard the anguish in his voice. "It's that letter. You got some bad news."

Thomas didn't reply.

Andy moved forward until he was standing next to the other man. "Who's it from anyway?"

Thomas paused. "It's from Jimmy."

"Jimmy? The chap whose place I took?"

"He wrote to say he's getting married."

Andy was confused. "Why are you upset? Isn't that a good thing?"

Thomas forced a sickly smile. "Yes, it is. Of course, it is. You should get back now before Mr. Carson sends out a search party."

The footman made no effort to leave. "I know you and he were friends. I've heard the others talk about it."

"What else do they say?" Thomas demanded angrily.

"Nothing. Just how much you missed him when he left." Andy felt there must be an element of this story that he didn't yet know.

"I did miss him. I still do. He was the only person here who ever really liked me."

Andy put an arm shyly around Thomas' broad shoulders. "Well, now you've got me."


	2. Chapter 2

That night, everyone else went up to bed, leaving Thomas and Andy alone in the servants' hall. Thomas rose to go also, hoping to avoid a discussion of the morning's events. "I guess I'll turn in too. Are you coming up?"

Andy fidgeted nervously in his chair. "I was hoping we could talk for a bit first."

Thomas sat down again. He had been dreading this conversation ever since Andy witnessed his embarrassing display of weakness earlier. He knew that the lad looked up to him and must be feeling disappointed.

The footman seemed unsure how to begin. "Are you alright now, Mr. Barrow? You were pretty upset this morning."

"I'm fine, Andy. The news just caught me off guard, that's all." Thomas tried to brush off the incident, hoping that Andy would let it drop.

"You and Jimmy must have been really close."

"We were good friends."

"What was he like?"

Thomas wanted to say he was like a small, blond cherub. "He was a cocky bloke, always up for a good time." He smiled in fond remembrance.

"Mr. Molesley said there was some trouble between you."

Molesley should learn to keep his big mouth shut. "A little misunderstanding, more like, but we worked it out in the end."

Andy paused, uncertain how to phrase his next question. "Was he like you?"

The underbutler felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Did Andy know? He kept his answer purposely vague. "Mr. Carson seemed to think so anyway. He never really cared for either of us."

"No, I didn't mean that." Andy bit his lip nervously.

"What did you mean then?" Thomas asked coolly, wishing the footman would just leave it alone.

"Please, don't make me say it." Andy looked at him beseechingly.

After a long pause, Thomas replied softly, "No, he was not."

Andy nodded. The events of the morning were becoming clearer to him now. "What was the trouble between you?"

Thomas hated to think of that time, one of the blackest of his life, but if he didn't answer Andy's questions, he knew someone else would. Still, it made him very uncomfortable to talk about it. "I was very, uh—attracted to Jimmy, and I mistakenly thought he felt the same way. One night, I sneaked into his room while he was asleep and kissed him. I must have been mad." He shook his head in disbelief. "He woke up and began shouting. If that weren't bad enough, the other footman, Alfred, walked in and saw the whole thing." He purposely left out any mention of Miss O'Brien. It still rankled to think how easily she had beaten him.

"Is that all of it?"

"Not exactly. Jimmy threatened to go to the police unless I was dismissed without a reference."

"But you'd never work again. He sounds horrible."

Thomas was quick to defend his old friend. "It wasn't his fault. He was just a pawn. Someone who worked here back then was using him to set me up."

Andy paused to consider the strange tale. "You're still here, so he must have changed his mind. And you were able to be friends after all that?"

"Eventually," Thomas replied, remembering the year of awkwardness following the incident. "Now you know the whole ugly story." He couldn't help asking, "Does it change the way you think of me?"

Andy felt flattered that Thomas even cared what he thought. He shrugged his shoulders. "You're just an emotional fellow."

Thomas smiled in amusement. He had to agree. "How did you know about me anyway?"

"I've always known."

"And you're not shocked and disgusted?"

Andy grinned. "I'm a city boy, remember? We're tougher than that." He added, "I just want you to be happy. Are you happy, Mr. Barrow?"

"Of course, I'm happy." Thomas was surprised to realize that at that moment, he truly was.


	3. Chapter 3

One night not long after, Thomas and Andy found themselves alone once again in the servants' hall. Thomas was reading a newspaper, an ever-present cigarette pressed between his lips. He inhaled deeply, aware that the young footman was watching him surreptitiously from across the table. "What is it?"

Andy appeared flustered at having been caught out. "Can I ask you a personal question, Mr. Barrow?"

Thomas put down the paper. Surely this wasn't about Jimmy again. He hardened his face into an impassive mask. "What do you want to know?"

"I was wondering about your hand."

Thomas' expression clearly showed his surprise. "My hand?" He contemplated the one clasping the cigarette.

"No, I meant the other one."

They both looked down at the gloved appendage resting on the table. Thomas quickly hid it from view. He didn't like to talk about it, remembering how he had purposely welcomed a bullet to escape the horrors of the battlefield. At the time, he was grateful because it got him sent home, but as the years went by, he had become more and more ashamed of his action. The ugly, scarred thing had become a symbol of his cowardice and at times, felt almost foreign to him. "I was wounded in the war."

Andy became emphatic. "Why do you cover it up? You should be proud of it."

Thomas managed a weak smile. "It's not very pretty to look at."

Andy blurted out, "My father died on the Somme."

Thomas didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry. Were you close?"

Andy simply nodded. "I still miss him a lot." He suddenly looked very young indeed. "What did you do in the war?"

"I was a corporal in the Army Medical Corp," Thomas answered. "After I was shot, I returned to Downton to work with Dr. Clarkson at the hospital. Later, I was promoted to lance sergeant and helped manage a convalescent home here at the Abbey." It was the only part of his time in the service he was proud of.

"You were in charge of Downton Abbey?"

"I ranked even higher than Mr. Carson." Thomas smiled broadly at that.

"But you went back to being a footman after the war?"

Thomas nodded. He had been lucky to get that.

"Does your hand still hurt you?" Andy asked him.

"Sometimes," the underbutler admitted.

"Can I see it?"

Thomas couldn't think of a reason to refuse and gently removed the fingerless glove. The bullet had passed cleanly through the back of the palm and had healed into a raised twisted scar. He studied Andy's face, expecting to see a look of revulsion there, but the footman merely turned the hand over to study the other side. "It doesn't look that bad to me," Andy remarked. Thomas, always a vain man, strongly disagreed. He hurriedly slipped the glove back on while Andy frowned his disapproval. "You needn't hide it, Mr. Barrow, not from me."

Thomas couldn't bear for Andy to think he was some sort of war hero. "The truth is when I look at it, I'm ashamed." He decided to come clean with the boy. "You see, I wasn't brave like your dad. One night, I raised my hand above the trench, holding up my cigarette lighter so it would be seen. I prayed for an enemy bullet to hit me and thanked God when it did. I just wanted to get out of the fighting and come home."

Andy appeared stunned. "Do the others know?"

Thomas had always thought Mr. Crawley knew or at least suspected, but he was dead now, and hopefully, the secret died with him. "I don't think so."

"Does Jimmy know?"

"It never came up, so there was no reason to tell him."

Andy sat in troubled silence for a very long time. "You must have been awfully scared."

"Yeah, I was. I guess I wasn't cut out to be a hero." Thomas felt the full weight of Andy's disillusionment. He watched the young footman attempt to reconcile the sleek, sophisticated servant that he knew with the frightened, desperate soldier who could perform such a cowardly act. At that moment, Thomas would give anything to be the man that Andy thought he was before that night. Andy was staring fixedly down at the table, lost in thought. Thomas spoke softly. "Look, I'm no saint. I've done a lot of terrible things in my past that you'll never know about, and I'll probably do more before I'm finished." He paused. "I know I've let you down."

"You haven't let me down, Mr. Barrow. I'm just sorry: about your hand, about Jimmy, about everything you've been through. I know you're not perfect, but you've been good to me, and I'm glad we're friends."

Thomas was touched. "Thank you, Andy. That means a lot to me." He flashed the footman a grateful smile.

Andy grinned back at him. "You're welcome, and by the way, I never thought you were a saint."


	4. Chapter 4

It was a beautiful spring evening, and Thomas and Andy were relaxing with Miss Baxter and Mr. Molesley in the courtyard after dinner. After a time, the older servants returned inside, leaving the two men alone to savor the warmth of the remaining sunlight. "Miss Baxter is really nice," Andy opined.

Thomas nodded in agreement. "I've known her since I was a boy. She was a friend of my sister when we were growing up. I was the one who got her this job." He skipped over the details of their arrangement. He felt deeply ashamed of the way he had blackmailed the timid, vulnerable woman into spying for him, but there was no reason to tell Andy about all that. "She helped me out last year when I was ill."

"What was wrong with you?"

Thomas paused. "I was doing a treatment, taking pills and giving myself injections. The stuff made me very sick, and she finally dragged me to see Dr. Clarkson. If it weren't for her, I might have died."

"What was the treatment for?"

Thomas knew that Andy wouldn't stop until he knew the whole story. He was like a dog with a bone that way. "I went for a course of electrotherapy in London—"

"My God!"

"I was continuing with the treatment on my own when I got back. Of course, the whole thing was a waste of time and money. You can't change who you are," Thomas spoke wistfully.

"Why would you want to change who you are, Mr. Barrow?"

Thomas felt tears welling up in his eyes. "Because I want to be like other men with a family and someone to love me. I don't want to be alone for the rest of my life."

Andy heard the raw emotion in his voice. "But you're not alone. You've got me now."

Thomas offered the footman a weak smile. "You're a good friend, Andy."

Andy snorted in derision. "I don't want to be just a friend. I want more, a lot more."

"What are you saying?"

"For a smart bloke, you can be pretty thick sometimes."

"I still don't understand—"

"Haven't I been trying to tell you? I'm in love with you."

Thomas looked at him first in disbelief, then in anger. "Don't! You don't know what you're saying. Why are you doing this? Did someone put you up to it?"

Andy was dumbfounded. He hadn't expected this kind of reaction to his declaration. "I said it because it's true. I do love you, Mr. Barrow—Thomas. I have from that night in London when you gave me all the money you won playing poker. No one had ever done anything like that for me before."

"You're mistaking gratitude for love. You're very young. You should stop thinking of me like that and find yourself a nice girl. I know Daisy likes you."

Andy looked affronted. "I am young, but I'm old enough to know who I want to be with, and it's not Daisy. I know I'm not handsome and clever like Jimmy, but he's gone, and I'm here. If you don't want me, just say so."

The footman turned to leave, but Thomas grabbed his wrist firmly. "Don't go. Just give me a moment to think." The two stood in silence before at last, Thomas spoke. "When did you know that you liked men and not women?"

"I've always known I was different. My brothers were always going on about the girls at school, but I was never interested in any of them. At first, I thought I was the only man who felt like that, but then I met others like me—like us. When I came here and got to really know you, I knew I wanted to be with you."

"Why didn't you speak up earlier?"

Andy paused. "You had been through so much with Jimmy and still seemed keen on him. I knew that he'd hurt you badly, and you weren't ready to be with someone new. I wanted you to learn to trust again and open up to me, and you did. I kept hoping that one day, you'd start to feel for me what you felt for Jimmy and tell me so. I waited and waited, but you never did. Maybe it would be better if I just left Downton Abbey."

"No!" Thomas felt a wave of panic wash over him. "I couldn't take it if you left too. I do care for you, Andy, but I never thought we could have that type of relationship." He laughed ruefully. "After what happened with Jimmy, I don't trust myself to read the signals."

Andy decided he had nothing left to lose and took Thomas' face in his large hands, kissing him tenderly on the lips. "Did you get that signal?"

Thomas smiled broadly. "Yeah, I think that one got through." He reached up for Andy and kissed him back.


End file.
